


Imprisoned Beauty

by Nanabana



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dubious Consent, M/M, Prince!Rin, Slave!Rin, Slavetrader!Sousuke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-26 17:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6248323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanabana/pseuds/Nanabana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke, an airship pilot and a notorious slave trader, picks up a runaway, who then proceeds to turn his business and his life upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

"Steer three degrees to the west. Furl sails three, six and seven, and tack sail four at 35 degrees."

Sousuke's hands were clutched in a death grip on the ship's wheel and he was concentrating too hard on stabilizing it to turn back and look at the face of his navigator, but when Haruka replied, Sousuke could tell from the tone of his voice alone that he was not pleased.

"That's equivalent to shutting down half the power systems in the ship, Sousuke," he said, growl audible behind his words. "That will take us right down to 150 feet in a matter of minutes. Are you trying to get us killed?"

"I'm trying to take us out of this storm," Sousuke retorted, the wheel vibrating under his hands as high winds lashed his airship from side to side; he tilted it ever so gently, and the ship's timbers groaned and creaked as Sousuke turned it against the force of the gale. "Now do it."

"If you want to get out of this storm you should fly up and above the clouds, not go lower where we'll have to get the brunt of the rain too," Haruka said, almost shouting; there was a crack of thunder, and the ship shuddered as the wind buffeted it.

"Last I heard, I was the captain of this airship, not you," Sousuke said, voice dangerous. He never had to yell to get his point across, and even now, in the middle of a bad storm and in an argument with his new upstart navigator, he knew he wouldn’t have to. "Now get to it."

There was silence for a few seconds, and then he heard the familiar sound of the knobs being twiddled on the control-to-deck transmitter, and Haruka relaying his words to the crew on deck.

"I want this done slow," Haruka was saying, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the storm and the yelling of the men. "Start with sail seven, take it in before you touch anything else." Sousuke smiled despite himself; Haruka was young and argumentative, but he was smart and had a sharp instinct for the workings of airships.

There was a loud rumble and the ship shook again as the men began pulling in the sail, a huge triangular sheet of thick oiled canvas attached to pulleys on its spar. It was hard work on the best of days, but in weather like this the entire crew would be working at it. As the sail was furled inwards, the ship abruptly dropped in altitude as the power it leeched from the steam boilers in the ship's innards was slowed, and then cut off with the furling.

"Fuck," Haruka swore as he was lifted up a few inches in his seat from the ship's drop, and Sousuke steadied the wheel. "This is going to kill us."

"Trust me, will you?" Sousuke said, scowling as he tweaked the ship's course to accommodate the lower altitude and the furling of the sails. "I've been on airships since I was a boy, and I've had Samezuka for five years. I know every breath of this ship like it's my own."

There was no reply from Haruka except a clipped "Sail four next. Take it in slow, make sure you're all secured with your harnesses." He tossed a dark look at Sousuke that Sousuke didn’t miss. "I don’t want a single man over the deck when we drop again."

___

 

The sails were furled within an hour, the ship thrumming with the strain of running on half power as they hovered 150 feet over the ocean, ferocious waves reaching out foam-flecked tips towards the bottom of the hull. Sousuke had calculated well, though; the ship was too high above the water for the waves to do any damage, but had just enough sails unfurled to keep it flying with the wind and not against it. The low altitude also meant that the wind wasn’t nearly as strong as it had been, and as Sousuke and Haruka stepped out on deck they could see eerie flashes of lightning among the thick clouds, through the sheets of rain pouring down.

"See that?" Sousuke said, pointing. "If I'd taken the ship up, we'd have run the risk of getting hit by one of these. Those spars are tempting for lightning." And indeed they were, forty feet of wood rising into the air, tipped with the power crystals that would light up and keep the ship floating and moving when attached to a fully tacked sail. "I once had lightning strike one of those crystals, on my previous ship. Know what happened?"

"What?"

"Blasted an entire fifth of the ship off. We lost two men and six crystals, and part of the boiler room was ruined. It shut down the rest of the crystals and we landed with a whump in the middle of Siberia." Sousuke smiled coldly. "The rest of the crew left alive and I walked for four days to get back to civilization."

Haruka swallowed. Sousuke regarded him with dark, unreadable eyes for a moment, and then stepped boldly into the rain to speak to the men and check the sails, disregarding the raindrops, large as pebbles, soaking into his clothes and hair and skin.

When they went back below deck, Sousuke grabbed Haruka by the collar of his sopping wet shirt and slammed him, hard, into the rough wooden door that separated the stairs leading down to the cabins from the deck.

"When I say to do something next time," he hissed, face close enough to Haruka for him to see the droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes, "you do it. Without question. Understand?"

Haruka clenched his hands into fists at his side. "Yes," he said, and Sousuke slammed him into the door again, hard enough for it to rattle in its hinges.

"Yes?"

"Yes, Captain."

Sousuke released him as abruptly as he'd grabbed him, before raking his fingers through his wet hair and throwing him a contemptuous look. "You're on duty the rest of the night, Haruka. I want us in Shanghai by dawn. Once this storm's over, unfurl all the sails and tack them for top speed."

He turned to walk away. "Don't mess up again."

"I won't," he heard Haruka say to his back, but he didn’t bother turning back to acknowledge or respond. The kid knew now who called the shots aboard this airship, and Sousuke didn’t need to enforce the lesson any more than was necessary.

___

 

Despite his words, Sousuke was up well before dawn, barking orders at the crew on deck as they sloshed around in their rubber boots and hauled at the heavy canvas sails, made even heavier after being soaked in the rain. The airship banked gently to the east as one by one the sails were unfurled, and perched on top of the masts the power crystals came to life, lighting up like bright white flames forty feet above, and the ship shuddered as power was drawn from deep in her innards in strong surges.

Sousuke spent the next two hours moving between the deck, the boiler room, and the bridge, surveying his crew and checking for problems. The storm, although rough, had blown over fairly quickly, and the ship hadn’t sustained any damage. The engines in the boiler room were running smoothly when Sousuke ducked in to take a look, mist and steam obscuring most of his sight but the rhythmic clink-clank reassuring him that all was well, with not a sound out of place. Haruka was in his element in the bridge, throwing switches and applying the corrections needed to their course after the storm had blown them slightly off, and Sousuke left him to it after some quick checks.

He'd just stepped out on deck when the sun hit him in the face, a blazing orange ball in the sky, and for a moment Sousuke thought that the ship looked like she was going to sail right into it. He lifted a hand to shade his eyes, and then from high above there was the piercing whistle of the lookout, ululating on the morning air.

The atmosphere of the ship changed; the men perked up and ran to the side, looking out over the railing and chattering excitedly. Some of them high-fived each other, and when Sousuke moved closer he saw what the lookout had spotted – a huge dark mass, rising out of the ocean before them, still covered in mist from the early morning and the late storm and looking like some ethereal, mythical land.

They'd arrived in Shanghai.

___

 

Sousuke's regular supplier had a fresh lot ready for him, as usual, when he arrived at the warehouse. It was just past 9 in the morning, and the warehouse was a veritable cacophony of noise as people pushed and shoved each other to get to the merchandise, shouting bids at the top of their lungs. 

Shanghai held their slave market auctions only three times a year, but it was the largest market in the world. Considering that half of all cities in Asia had placed a ban on slavery, that was saying something – however, Shanghai was as legal as they came, and even in the underbelly of the Asian black markets, merchandise from Shanghai could fetch high prices.

On his way in, Sousuke spotted several other airship captains he knew, and nodded to them politely as he passed. He didn’t join them in the common auctions taking place in the warehouse proper, though – his was a recognizable face in the slave markets of the world, and he strode purposefully to the very back, where a nondescript door led into a private room. A couple of burly men, standing guard outside the door with guns displayed ostentatiously in waist holsters, took one look at him and waved him in. Sousuke's reputation gave him special privileges – one of which included having first shot at the best of the merchandise. The slaves being auctioned off in the warehouse would mostly be bought and sold in bulk, to work on farms or in factories, and while turnover was high, the profit margin was not. The slaves in this private little section in the back though – they were quite another level entirely.

Seijurou was waiting for him, cigar clamped between his lips as he shouted something into a receiver, punching large brass buttons on a transmitter radio furiously. From the bits Sousuke could glean of the conversation, Seijurou was talking to someone in Helsinki, and it didn’t sound good; Seijurou was almost apoplectic with rage. Finally he twisted a knob viciously and slammed the receiver down, pulling the headphones off.

"Fucking moron," he said bitterly to no one in particular. "If he tries that on me again I'll lop his fucking balls off."

"Bad morning?" Sousuke said, stepping into Seijurou's line of sight. Seijurou looked up, surprise flashing across his face, but when he saw it was Sousuke he relaxed.

"Worst morning ever," he grumbled. "This dumb Finnish dandy bought twenty of my stock last week and now he wants to return half of them. Claims they're spoilt goods." He pounded a meaty fist on the table. "Everyone knows my goods are the best. The idiot probably ruined them himself and then decided to try to cheat me out of a few world dollars."

"So what's going to happen now?" Sousuke asked out of politeness, though he knew the answer; Seijurou never made refunds, and with good reason too – his merchandise was, quite simply, always top grade.

"I told him to go fuck himself, and if he comes near my markets again, I'll have my boys shoot his head off," Seijurou chuckled darkly. "He'll have to go do business with the guys somewhere else, in Kyoto or wherever, I don't care."

Sousuke grinned. "Knew you could handle it."

"Of course," Seijurou said, exhaling a cloud of evil-smelling cigar smoke. "Right, I know you're a busy man, so let's not waste our time with small talk on stupid people, shall we?" He stood up, and Sousuke straightened.

"I'm sure you're busy too, Seijurou," he said, inclining his head in a little bow. "Let's get to business, then. What do you have for me today?"

Seijurou grinned and began walking towards one of the doors set into the wall behind him; Sousuke fell into step next to him. "Good stuff, of course."

"How many? Male or female?"

"Only eight this time, I'm afraid. And all male," Seijurou replied. "But good quality, very good quality. I think you'll be pleased."

"All male," Sousuke mused, as they reached the heavy wooden door and Seijurou drew out a set of keys, jangling as he searched through them. "Age range?"

"16 years to 28 years."

"Hmmm," Sousuke said, watching Seijurou fit one large iron key into the lock. "That could be hard. Males aren’t in demand lately."

"This set will be," Seijurou promised. "And there are only eight. Easy for you to place with the people who matter. I did hear that Count Aiichirou in Barcelona was looking for a male. And you know the Count pays handsomely."

"That's only one person," Sousuke pointed out as the door swung open, and they stepped into a large room, bright and well-lit. "I still have to find buyers for another seven."

"With your talents and connections, you won’t have any trouble."

Sousuke didn’t reply, because now he was standing in the middle of the room, looking at a line of young men against the wall. Some of them were standing, head bowed; others were sitting with their knees to their chests. They were all dressed identically in loose, shiftlike white garments that reached down to their knees; they looked ridiculous, but that wasn’t Sousuke's concern. None of them looked up when Sousuke and Seijurou walked in.

"Have you done all the necessary checks?" Sousuke asked. His voice carried, in the silent room, but still none of the slaves responded beyond a slight shifting of their bodies, except one at the far end, who lifted his head and stared boldly at Sousuke.

"Of course," Seijurou answered impatiently. "Vaccinations, oral checks, blood tests, we've run them all. Come on, Sousuke, you've worked with me for enough years to know that I don't give you defective goods."

"That's true," Sousuke agreed. "And are they intact?"

"As untouched as white virgin snow," Seijurou grinned. "You can up your price as much as you want with this lot."

The man – boy, really, he was probably no more than twenty – at the end of the line shifted, and Sousuke heard the clinking sound of manacles. He whipped his head round to stare; the boy was striking, with a head of messy red hair, striking red eyes, and pretty rosebud lips. But unlike the other slaves, his hands were chained behind his back and manacled to the wall, and so were his ankles, looking delicate in the heavy iron clamps. While the other slaves all had their eyes down, this boy was looking directly at Sousuke, hatred and defiance shining bright in his red eyes, until the air around him was practically crackling with it. Interesting.

"That one," he said to Seijurou, pointing with his chin. "Why is he chained?" Slaves, as a rule, were never bound once broken, so they could be sold on quickly and be put to work at once, and Seijurou was good at breaking them in. 

"He's not broken," Seijurou said. "He's resisted all attempts so far."

"And you want to sell that to me?" Sousuke said, scowling. 

To his surprise, Seijurou laughed and walked over to the boy, who glared at him with every step, until Sousuke was sure that if looks could kill, Seijurou would be long dead and cold on the floor. "Come here," he said, jerking his head. "I'm going to show you something."

The boy pressed himself against the wall as Seijurou reached out and grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging at it enough to force his head back, but not too hard – slaves had to be kept in pristine, undamaged condition after all. "This is the only way you can get close to him," Seijurou said, reaching into the neckline of the boy's flimsy garment and fishing for something. "Otherwise, he bites."

"How did you get such a wild one," Sousuke joked.

Seijurou pulled out something, and motioned for Sousuke to move closer; when he did, he saw that it was a medallion, hung on a thin gold chain. The medallion bore a coat of arms, one that was vaguely familiar to Sousuke, but he couldn’t place it.

"What's that?"

"That, my friend, is the coat of arms of the Matsuoka Empire," Seijurou rumbled. "Guess what? We ran some background checks into this kid. He's the only son of the Emperor Matsuoka. The little prince who probably thought running away was a fun adventure, until he fell into the hands of my men. Can you imagine how much money you can get for him? You'd repay your entire investment in one stroke."

The little calculator in Sousuke's brain immediately began whirring at top speed; Seijurou was right, a slave with aristocratic blood would fetch an incredible price. This was a stroke of luck that Sousuke had only heard about a couple of times all his life, and had never experienced himself, until now. "Too dangerous though," he said almost automatically, breaking out bargaining tactics. "If his family find him with me, I'm dead."

"If my family find me, you'll be wishing you're dead before you even get put to death," the boy spat, speaking for the first time. His voice was high and clear, but steely, and Sousuke had to grin. He liked the ones with spirit.

"Then why haven’t we heard any reports of them searching for you, hmmm? Hasn’t it been two months since you left home?" Seijurou said, and the boy fell silent, though he was still sending scorching glares at them.

"I can't sell him," Sousuke said. "He's not broken."

"He will be before long," Seijurou said, finally letting the boy go and stepping out of range. "Any number of people will want to pay for the chance to break him."

"Fuck you," the boy said, and Seijurou laughed.

"You're feisty, Rin," he said. "I think Sousuke here is going to love dealing with you."

"That's his name?" Sousuke asked.

"Yeah. Matsuoka Rin. Go check it out if you want – but I assure you, he's of noble blood. You see his sharp teeth? That’s one of the Matsuokas special traits. I have never lied to you, and I'm not about to start now."

Sousuke weighed his options. This lot was going to be expensive for sure, the price inflated by Rin, and Rin himself was going to be trouble if he was unbroken and wild. But Seijurou was right, Rin could command a price more than sufficient to cover all his costs for this, and if Sousuke managed to break him before he was sold, all the better.

"So how about it?" Seijurou said, puffing on his cigar. Sousuke hesitated only a moment before making his decision, staring at Rin, who was still glaring at them with narrowed eyes. The boy wasn’t just an aristocrat, he was pretty. Very pretty. Delicate and pale and just generally beautiful. Sousuke couldn’t even begin to imagine how much he could sell him for, and how much he'd bring in if he chose to hold a private auction.

"I'll take them," he said firmly, but his eyes were fixed on Rin.

Deliberately, Rin turned his head and gritted his teeth.

___


	2. First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sousuke, an airship pilot and a notorious slave trader, picks up a runaway, who then proceeds to turn his business and his life upside down.

The slaves were herded into one of the holds below deck, including Rin, and Sousuke saw the large cast-iron bolts slid into place before returning to the bridge. Haruka was there, his eyes heavy and droopy with sleepiness, but he already had the ship's large oilskin world map spread out across the table in the room. He looked up as Sousuke strode in and walked over to the map without a word.

"Everything done?" Haruka asked, and Sousuke nodded.

"The merchandise is already here, we're ready to sail," he said, bending over the map and smoothing it out, tapping his fingers on the inked black lines. 

"I take it that it was a good deal then?" Haruka asked, as Sousuke's eyes roved over the map, silently plotting routes and calculating distances and time.

"Very good," Sousuke replied. "We're going to make a mint on this one, Haruka. One of the slaves Seijurou captured is a noble."

Haruka blinked in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," Sousuke said. "His father is the Emperor Matsuoka."

"Matsuoka Empire is one of the kingdom that have outlawed slavery," Haruka said at once.

"Yeah, so imagine how much more we can get for him, not only because he's of noble blood, but because it's virtually impossible to get someone from Matsuokas. From what Seijurou told me, he wasn’t too smart – walked right into one of the Black Zones." 

The Zones, areas of empty, uninhabited land outside certain cities, were borderless territories belonging to no country. Bandits and slave hunters flourished in them, because unclaimed territories also meant that these areas were subject to no laws whatsoever; that included the law that freedmen were not allowed to be captured and indentured as slaves. If Rin had gotten lost and entered one of the Zones, he had only himself to blame for his current situation; Seijurou had certainly not broken any laws by subjecting Rin to bondage.

Haruka nodded. "What's he like?"

"Unbroken for now," Sousuke replied, pursing his lips as he looked over the map, tracing a route from Shanghai to Barcelona with his fingertip and absently wondering if he should take the risk of flying over Romania, when it'd recently announced its blanket ban on the slave trade. No, he decided, the Samezuka was too well-known. His finger moved higher, across Moscow and the Baltic Sea, and he made up his mind; he would circle around, even if it added another week to his travel time. Besides, on the way he could stop at Copenhagen, and visit the Crown Princess – he was certain that she would find something pleasing in his new cargo. "We'll sell him last, after he's broken. I'm thinking of holding a private auction, just for a handful of our more important clients."

"You think a lot of this one, don’t you?"

Sousuke grinned. "He's absolutely stunning, I haven’t seen a beauty like him in years. We're going to make our nest egg off him."

"As if you aren’t already rich enough for a nest egg made of pure gold," Haruka muttered, but Sousuke ignored him.

"Here," he said. "Take us over Moscow. We'll stop at Copenhagen first, then head down to Barcelona. Remember to avoid – "

"Yeah, yeah," Haruka said. "Avoid Bucharest, Warsaw, and Luxembourg. I know very well which cities we're not welcome at, Captain."

"Very good," Sousuke said, his mood expansive enough to allow his navigator the rare chance at being insolent. "Chart our course right now. I want us to sail out in two hours, and I want to reach Copenhagen within twelve days."

Haruka was already at the console, tapping calculations into the compass platform and running tests for wind speed, his hands moving with astonishing dexterity over the rows of knobs and dials. He turned the telegraph on to transmit instructions to the engineers in the boiler room, and then contacted the aerodrome to get weather forecasts and clearance for takeoff. 

Satisfied, Sousuke left him to it, leaving the bridge to return to his cabin, but not before he'd snagged a steward and ordered him to bring some food. He was tired and hungry, and some food and a rest sounded very good at the moment. By the time he woke up, the ship should be well over the Caspian Sea in the capable hands of Haruka.

The steward bowed at his instructions and made to scurry away, but Sousuke grabbed his arm and held him back. "Relay orders that the slaves must be fed every day at noon, and again at 7."

"Yes, Captain," the steward squeaked.

"And make sure you're careful with them – no beatings, no sloppy gruel for meals and all that. Not too much food, I want them weak and quiet, but this batch needs to be kept fairly well-nourished. If I find so much as a scratch on any of them, I'll have the entire crew flogged. Do you hear me? Make sure everyone gets the message."

The instructions were necessary, because most times Sousuke's goods were ordinary, run-of-the-mill slaves, and his crew was used to roughing them up to keep them subservient. Slaves were not fed much more than scraps once a day, to render them too weak to fight back or attempt escape, but goods like Seijurou's lot came by only a few times a year, when the large slave markets like Shanghai, Geneva or Tokyo held their auctions and private viewings for the more privileged slave traders like Sousuke. Sousuke wanted them in prime condition and sold for as high as possible.

"Yes Captain, sir," the steward repeated, bowing obsequiously. Sousuke let go of him, and watched as he hurried away. 

___

 

The moment the first knock sounded on his door, Sousuke jerked awake and swung his legs over the edge of the bed in one fluid motion, reaching for his boots with a hand; years on airships had taught him to always be alert and prepared, even deep in sleep. "Who is it?" he hollered, glancing out of the porthole. The sun was dipping west, and the sky was a rich purple colour; he estimated that it was about 7 in the evening, and he'd been asleep for only four hours.

"I'm one of the stewards, Captain, sir," came the reply from behind the thick oak door. 

Sousuke frowned, pulling his boots on and grabbing his pistol from the tiny bedside table. "Come in, it's not locked," he yelled, and the door opened slowly, revealing the same timid-looking steward Sousuke had stopped earlier to impart instructions to. He paled at the sight of Sousuke casually strapping the gun into a holster hanging on his belt.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently.

The steward swallowed. "It's the slaves, Captain."

Sousuke's brows drew together in a frown. "What?! Didn’t I already give specific instructions as to what the crew has to do with them?"

"Yes, but there's trouble, sir. Much trouble, like."

"What sort of trouble? I pay you men enough to handle the merchandise, so I don't have to be bothered with them. What is bad enough that you have to come and disturb me?"

The steward visibly flinched. "It's – it's one of the slaves, sir. He refuses to eat, and you ordered that they must be properly fed and not allowed to starve."

"So what?" Sousuke barked. "Pinch his nose until he opens his mouth and then pour the food down his throat! Must I personally show you all how it's done?"

"N – no, Captain," the steward said, swallowing. "We did try that, but – but – "

"But what! Speak up, or you're asking for a flogging."

The steward turned pale, and wrung his hands while he spoke. "One of the other men tried that, and – and he's in the infirmary now."

Sousuke blinked slowly at the man. "Infirmary?"

"He tried to do what you said, but he couldn’t even touch him. The slave just leapt forward and caught the fleshy part of his forearm in his mouth." The steward stopped and swallowed again, before continuing. "Our doctor says that he – he's probably just going to have a hole there forever."

Sousuke couldn’t believe his ears. "What the fuck are you saying?"

"He got a chunk of flesh bitten off, Captain. There's a huge gaping hole in his arm, ragged flesh and all. No one wants to go near that slave now."

Sousuke closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly to calm the anger that was slowly boiling in him. "Which slave is this?"

"The young one, sir. Red hair, red eyes, sharp teeth."

Recognition sparked in Sousuke. "Rin," he growled, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "Fine. I'll go down there myself and knock some sense into him."

___

 

Sousuke strode along the passageway, two stewards hurrying in front of him and holding torches to light his way, and followed by three more burly crewmen, still sweaty from their work in the hot steam of the boiler room and looking decidedly unhappy that Sousuke had plucked them from there to deal with a trivial matter of a recalcitrant slave; Sousuke had picked them for this simply because they were the strongest men in his crew and had the bulkiest muscles, honed from hours of hauling coal and metal and pumping steam for energy. This far below deck, the passages were dark and cold, and Sousuke's boots made soft thuds against the damp wood. The lengths of chain that the crewmen carried dragged along the wood, and the scraping noise they made set his teeth on edge.

He walked past metal doors set along the corridor; each door led into large storage bays which held the ship's supply of food, fresh water, and spare parts, until he reached the hold where he'd watched the slaves being herded into hours ago. The huge bolts were still in place, but Sousuke's sharp eyes noted little red droplets splattered over the metal and some on the wooden planks of the floor, barely discernible through the dark dampness of the wood – blood. His face tightened.

"Open the door," he ordered, and the stewards scurried to obey, one sliding the heavy bolts back, the other fitting a key into the lock and turning. The door swung open and Sousuke strode inside, flanked by the stewards.

This particular holding bay was considered pleasant by most standards – it was steel-lined and thus protected from the wet and the cold that seeped in through most parts of the airship, when it was flying at high altitudes. Portholes set high in the walls allowed fresh air and sunlight in, and lamps in sconces kept the place well lit even at night. It was one of the largest in the ship as well, and slaves held in here had ample room, unlike cheaper, lower-quality stock, which was kept crammed like sardines in other holds in the dark and the damp. 

Right now, most of the slaves were huddled in a corner as far away from Rin as they could get, but the resigned looks on their faces as they stole glances at him and at Sousuke and his men showed that they were used to this occurrence. Sousuke remembered Seijurou's warnings, and regretted that he had ever decided to unshackle Rin over everything Seijurou had said.

Rin himself was sitting on the floor at the other end of the hold, knees drawn to his chest and his loose white shift pulled over them, hem skimming the tops of his feet. He looked vulnerable, seated and dressed as he was, but there were spots of blood on him and dotted along the steel floor, and he looked up boldly when Sousuke approached him, lips curved into a smirk and reddened with blood still, showing his sharp teeth. There was blood smudged along the corner of his mouth and along his cheek, and on the back of his hand where he must have wiped it across his face. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned or bothered about it.

Sousuke stopped right in front of him, not bothering to stay out of range; his aim was to show no fear. He stared down at Rin, eyes cold and unafraid, and felt a curl of satisfaction deep in his belly when Rin’s eyes fluttered downwards and his hands clenched into tight little fists in the thin fabric of his garment.

"Fun, wasn’t it?" Sousuke asked, and Rin looked back up at him, emboldened by the deceptive softness in Sousuke's voice, and smirked.

"More than you can imagine," he said, unfolding himself from the floor and standing up in one smooth motion; Sousuke held his ground, even though he could hear his men behind him take surreptitious steps back. The top of Rin's head barely cleared the line of Sousuke's lips and his body was all slender compared to Sousuke's, and yet when he tossed his head back, the defiance in his entire demeanour was clear. "Want to try?"

"You know, I took you out of those chains out of the kindness of my heart," Sousuke drawled. "Or do you really enjoy being in them so much that you want to go back there?"

Rin's face lost its colour. "What would you know about kindness? You're just a cheap slaver who makes his living off trading human lives like pieces of meat."

"Looks like being nice isn’t going to work on you, is it," Sousuke said, motioning behind him; the crewmen approached, chains held at the ready, and for the first time, Rin took a step back.

"You have no right to hold me against my will," he spat at Sousuke.

"I'm afraid it's too late for you now," Sousuke said, reaching out as if to pat Rin on the head.

Rin lunged forward, but Sousuke was ready; he twisted out of the way and as Rin's body flew past him, propelled so far forward that he was falling over without Sousuke's body in the way, he gripped a fistful of Rin's hair and yanked, fingers curling tightly into the fine strands. 

Rin cried out, hands flying up to his head, and at a nod from Sousuke the crewmen closed in, grabbing his arms and forcing them behind him, closing the manacles around his wrists and ankles. Sousuke only let go once he'd been properly secured, but he slid his hand down Rin's cheek and grabbed his chin instead, holding him in place so he couldn’t open his mouth. 

"If you want privileges, you have to earn it," he said. "You want to be out of these chains? Learn to be obedient, and I'll give you your freedom back."

Rin squirmed furiously in Sousuke's grip as he struggled to speak, and when Sousuke released him and stepped back, he yelled, "The word 'freedom' coming from someone like you makes it dirty! I'd rather be in chains forever than submit to you for whatever sick parody of freedom you offer. Let's see how you're going to make money out of me then!"

Sousuke smiled coldly. "You're not the first person who's tried being defiant to discourage me from selling them on. You unbroken ones, you're all the same. You think that you can somehow sit and stagnate in a battle of wills with me and wear me down. How many do you think have succeeded? None." He snapped his fingers in front of Rin. "I broke each and every one of them, like this. And you'll be broken too, Rin, don't you worry."

"Over my dead body," Rin said. "Try me, you bastard!" He made as if to lunge forward again, but the crewmen holding him jerked him back, the chains rattling. "I'd rather die!"

"You won't die," Sousuke said. "If you really wanted to, you'd have killed yourself a long time ago when Seijurou got you, either by starving yourself or biting your tongue. You don’t have the strength to do such a thing, my little prince."

"The only reason I'm living is so that I can make sure each and every one of you bastards who have ever laid hands on me will die." Rin's fiery gaze swept over Sousuke and the men holding him. "I swear to you, when I get back to my family, I'll have you all die a million deaths before they execute what's left of you."

Sousuke laughed. "Bring it on, then." He turned on his heel and walked out, ignoring Rin's infuriated shouts ringing behind him; the men followed, dragging Rin, screaming all the way. For a moment Sousuke considered gagging him, but decided against it; he'd soon learn that screaming wouldn’t help, anyway. The spoiled little brat was going to be in for many unpleasant days on the ship.

The men dragged Rin down several passageways with him until they reached another hold, this one much smaller than the previous one. It was pitch dark inside, and the air was heavy with the stench of its previous occupants – it usually held up to as many as fifty people at a time, crammed in with their own stink, and no amount of bleach or lye could scrub out the lingering smells and unpleasant dampness. There were iron pegs hammered into the stout wood walls, and at a motion from Sousuke the men began tethering Rin to the pegs, looping the chains through them as Rin struggled and swore. 

"You can't leave me here," Rin shouted, pulling ineffectually at his heavy shackles. "You son of a bitch, don't you dare!"

Sousuke chuckled and flicked his fingers lightly against Rin's chin. "I can do whatever I want to you. I own you now, in case you forgot – bought you fair and square."

"You can't," Rin said, and in the glint of light that fell across his face from the open door Sousuke was gratified to see, for the first time, a trace of fear on Rin's perfect features.

"Enjoy yourself," Sousuke said, turning away, Rin's screams following him out until they were cut off as the crewmen heaved the iron door into place to lock and bolt it. And there Rin would stay, in the dark and the cold, until he could behave. If Sousuke was any judge, the boy would crack within a week.

___

 

A week into the voyage, the airship was well over Moscow, and Sousuke had almost forgotten about Rin or the other slaves by then. He'd been distracted by yet another storm over Uzbekistan, a sandstorm this time, caused by westerly winds blowing sand in from the Gobi Desert, and for two days after he couldn’t even walk without the gritty feel of fine sand in his clothes and crunching underfoot whenever he moved. Then he'd been delayed for a day in Moscow awaiting permission to take off, after he'd stopped there to stock up on supplies, thanks to a fire in the aerodrome that had grounded every single airship there until the damage could be assessed.

So he wasn’t in the best of moods as he sat next to Haruka at the console and watched him enter coordinates for the remainder of their voyage to Copenhagen, still more than a week away after the numerous delays. He was even less pleased when a seaman came running in panting, and asking to be allowed to speak to him immediately.

"We're busy," Sousuke growled, not sparing the minor crewman more than a passing glance; Haruka looked up, shook his head, and slipped a pair of headphones over his head, more to shut out the noise he anticipated would be coming than for any communication purposes.

"It's about the slaves, Captain," the seaman said, looking nervous. "One of them, I mean. The one you ordered locked in solitary, sir."

Sousuke straightened. "What about him?" He felt a smile spread over his face. With any luck, the man was bringing good news, and Rin was now quiet and obedient and ready to be returned with the rest of the –

"He's ill, sir."

Sousuke shot up; his chair fell backwards onto the floor with a crash, but Sousuke paid it no mind. "What!"

"He's sick, Captain. Might be the grippe, we don't know. Should we move him to the infirmary, or…"

"How sick is he?"

The seaman paled at the question. "Rather… well, I think he's very sick, sir. He's coughing and hacking, and he's burning up. He's barely able to move. And he's not doing well because he hasn’t been eating either, and – "

Sousuke grabbed the seaman by the collar and yanked him close. "What do you mean, he hasn’t been eating?"

The hapless man swallowed. "Well, he's refused to eat, and he injured a couple more of our crew, so we learned to force-feed him, but – but he just heaves it right back out, sir. Throws it all up."

Sousuke couldn’t believe his ears. "He's shackled to the wall and doesn’t have room to even move, and you're telling me he still managed to injure more people? And throw up whatever he's fed?"

"He's – rather hard to handle, sir," the seaman said, not meeting his eyes. "And you left strict instructions that you weren’t to be bothered about this slave again, so we managed as best as we could, but now he's sick, sir."

Sousuke growled and heaved the man away from him; he stumbled before finding his balance and straightening. "You're useless! Every single one of you is utterly useless. Can you do nothing without me?"

"Yes, Captain, sir," the man mumbled. "Please, sir, what do we do with him now? If he's left in there like this any longer, he might – he might not make it."

Sousuke ran his hands through his hair in frustration, glaring daggers at the man. "Move him to the infirmary. Right now!" he barked, and the seaman jumped and nodded his acquiescence, hurrying out of the bridge.

He spun around; Haruka was leaning back in his chair, rocking it on two legs, looking amused. He let the chair fall back on all fours with a thud and opened his mouth to speak, and Sousuke pointed a finger at him.

"Not a word out of you, Haruka," he warned.

Haruka snorted and spoke over him anyway. "Looks like you have to take better care of your nest egg, huh? It looks to be pretty fragile to me."

Sousuke frowned. "Shut it and go on with your work," he growled, storming out.

___


End file.
